Heaven's Grief
by G i g a HEART
Summary: *Takes place directly after 08x17 Goodbye Stranger* Meg Masters is brought back to life as a human for reasons yet to be revealed. What happens when she calls on a certain, trench coat wearing metaphorical unicorn for help?
1. Pulse

**Heaven's Grief**

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_Everything I say, I say to me first.  
Everything I do, I do to me first._ – "Dark Come Soon" by Tegan and Sara

Chapter One: _Pulse _

A pulse…

A fluttering, insistent little thing…

I felt cold then, like I was first doused in ice water before being thrown outside during a snowstorm. It made me feel tingly and still very much frozen. Something was different. There used to be a void, an emptiness that was tangible, but somehow I was now whole. There was a muffled sound. Gravel moved roughly beneath footsteps that seemed as if like a dance. It echoed at the back of my subconscious and involuntarily brought forth a memory. I could hear my ragged breathing, the heavy clashing of two angel blades, and feel the hatred that was more potent than hell itself.

Sticky, coppery warmth filled my mouth. The girl that the body belonged to was long gone, but I could tell that the vessel was broken in ways I couldn't fix. It was irreparable damage and Crowley knew it. He knew that he was stronger than me and I knew that every move against him would be futile. I remembered blinking away at the blood stinging my eye, as I took another hard blow to the head. Crowley's fingers twisting in the collar of my jacket, as he dragged me to my feet.

I was alive long enough to see that the boys were all right. The Winchesters needed to survive. Their existence proved to be crucial and damned prophetic, and I had to die for that cause. I was okay with staying dead permanently. I liked the thought of becoming the absolute nothingness that I was never afraid of and not leaving behind a single particle of my being.

The color blue flashed rapidly, almost like the ticking of an old clock. It mimicked the same wild rhythm as the pounding in my chest. Blue. Any moment that clock would chime and the dull endless throbbing might stop. Castiel's eyes poured into this living, inexplicable dream. Blue. The Angel Tablet held safely in Castiel's hands. I couldn't have known for sure that he'd made it out safely, but my mind painted a vivid picture, of that, and then some other occurrences I wouldn't have cared to imagine.

I accepted these visions as facts, but why was I here, when I was supposed to be done?

I started to shiver uncontrollably, but I didn't have a human body. There weren't any bones to shake. I didn't have skin to cover them or veins housed with blood pumping beneath it. I willed my eyes opened to a daylight that nearly blinded me, so I quickly closed them. As I tried lifting my sore limbs, I realized that I was halfway submerged in water. It took me a while to pull my body out of the muddy lake, but I did well despite feeling disoriented.

Raking the soft earth beneath my fingernails, I managed to drag myself to the nearest tree that I could find and pressed my back against its firm surface. My chest heaved with every harsh, laborious pant. My lungs strained for necessary intakes of air and it hurt. Everything hurt. Honestly, I suffered this whole ordeal as a human might.

I _am _human and this wasn't a vessel. This was my flesh, my bones, my blood. And I _hated_ it.

There had to be a reason, an answer that would justify this obvious mistake. I raised my head up skeptically towards the clouds. An overused and outdated trench coat flashed at the back of my mind. Skin that was pale, like the stars illuminating a pitch black sky, and a pair of unearthly blue eyes, both fierce and genuine.

I decided to try to call on him. My voice hoarse, as it broke, "C-Clarence? Can you hear me? I'm in need of divine intervention."

To no surprise to anybody, Castiel didn't appear before me. Not the first time I called, nor the sixth, the twentieth. I settled back against the tree and closed my eyes. It was difficult to ignore the grumbling in my stomach, the thirst for water, and the need for warmth. There was little I could do about it, since there was no power in this body, demonic or otherwise.

And I could feel it, tearing me from the inside out, that my soul was intact. For the first time, in a very long time, I felt true fear. I was small, weak, and crumbling – my conscience was now my own personal hell.

So, I called again.

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Safe

**A/N:** To everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed this story, thank you so much! It's the best motivator.  
* I decided to make this fic more interesting by giving Meg a back story. No one knows how or why she became a demon, so I hope you enjoy that as her past slowly unfolds.

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**Heaven's Grief **

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_I hope it's not just a bad dream,_  
_Hope it's not just a sad dream._ – "Sad Dream" by Sky Ferreira

Chapter Two: _Safe _

Welcome to Mississippi, _it's like coming home. _The bitter irony wasn't lost on me, as I continued walking barefoot down the road past the sign. I still needed answers and I knew of a place that might be able to provide them. Although, the likelihood that any demon would help me, rather than kill me given who I was, were slim to none.

If Crowley was behind my unfortunate situation, perhaps marching straight into the lion's den wouldn't be very clever on my part. But I didn't care.

I was supposed to be dead anyway.

The travel to Lloyd's Bar proved to be quite strenuous for a human. It sure took a hell of a lot longer getting there, than it used to. The bottoms of my feet were cut up, having stepped on shards of broken glass and unseen jagged rocks along my path. I ignored the sharp pain I could feel radiating throughout my body, as I pulled opened the door to the establishment. The loud rock music and heavy stench of the cigarette smoke overwhelmed my newly found senses.

But it sure made for a positive business environment.

Demons craved this sort of misery. It was intoxicating to them, being active participants in hell's ongoing pissing contest. How many souls did you have under your belt? Humans were ruled by their emotions. They could be controlled by their mundane urges; riches, revenge, love, and even loss. Most of them felt desperate or hopeless, which was usually referred to as an easy mark.

"Look at'cha! Why, you're covered in soot from top t' bottom!" A waitress stopped in her tracks, the look on her gentle face was now one filled with concern. "There's a bathroom straight over there." She pointed towards a hallway. "I suggest you make use of it, darlin'."

I slowly nodded, caught off guard from being spoken to directly. The restroom was empty when I went on in. The intense lighting was enough to harm my eyes more than the sun. Avoiding staring into the mirror, I turned on the sink and held onto the porcelain sides. The sound of the faucet running was oddly comforting.

Long brown curls fell forward, as I leaned my head down. I watched as the end of each strand untangled beneath the surface of the water, the grime turning it murky. Beside the sink was a towel dispenser. I soaked a few of them, bringing the paper cloth to my face with a trembling hand.

I didn't want to confirm what I already knew to be true, that when I was brought back as a human, I was placed back in my original packaging. And despite my best efforts to not look at my face ever again, I couldn't stop myself. Russet brown eyes stared back at me, large and glossy, as though they were about to pour over tears. The smooth, fair complexion that I'd always been envied for; I didn't want this skin, but it belonged to me.

Whatever – whoever put me back on this earth was kind enough to clothe me in a simple white gown. It did nothing to hide my figure or lack thereof. I was small and scrawny, back to being twenty years old. I couldn't stop fixing my eyes on the mirror, wiping away at the mud on my cold face, a part of me still wishing that I hadn't looked at all.

A tear rolled down my cheek and it felt warm and real.

* * *

"I see that you've taken to reading in the stables again." My mother pulled pieces of hay from my hair, as she voiced her disapproval sternly, "What should happen to us if you come down with a fever or a cough?"

I caught her troubled eyes in the mirror, "You speak of the Black Death?"

"I beg of you not to repeat this conversation to your sisters." I promised sincerely. My two younger sisters were my entire life. I would never carelessly place doubt or worry in their minds. Once she knew I was serious, she continued. "Three families have already fallen to its fatal hand. This plague is affecting everything that surrounds us. It is a dark cloud that hovers now."

Turning towards her, I gently held her shaking hands in my own. She was crying silently, something I have grown accustomed to, "I swear that nothing bad is going to befall on our family. Not to Jane, not to Sarah, and not to you." I wanted to add that I would never allow us to wither away like my late father had, but I didn't have it in me.

"Megan, you are a good child." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Lord William shall see you as so as well." I heard the hopeful tone in her voice. Marrying me off to an older man was not only her way of protecting me, but it was the only way my family could survive as well, so I didn't fight it.

* * *

The door opened, startling me out of my stupor. The memory left me feeling vulnerable and alone. The price of having a soul meant revisiting the past and I wasn't yet prepared. I took a seat at a table in the back, grabbing the attention of the same waitress from earlier. Her smile met her eyes, matching well with the pep in her step, "Hiya, hun! Ya'll better now?"

"Yes, thank you." She handed me a menu, even though she probably knew that I didn't have any money; my tattered, dirty attire should have made it obvious.

"Whatever you want, it's on the house." Her kindness was starting to frighten me. I was still considering how to react to it, when she beamed back another sweet smile, "Let me help ya out some? How about I get you a nice tall glass of Mississippi's finest iced lemonade and if you're hungry, I could ask our cook to make you a juicy cheeseburger with a side of fries?"

"Maybe a glass of water-" I stopped mid-sentence, watching as she scooted herself inside the booth across from me. Her eyes were smoldering and I could visibly see now that there was something more about her than the ordinary. "Or I could send your ugly ass straight back to hell."

Set up the bait and there's the tug.

A demon.

"That's fine by me." I looked at her very seriously then, meaning every word. "But before we do that, I'm just dying to know why I was brought back. Who resurrected me? For what cause?"

Her red lips turned up into a sly smile, remaining silent. It occurred to me that not even she knew why, that – or she wasn't allowed to say. In my time as a demon, I'd learned how to seem spitefully amused and this situation was no different. This demon was exhibiting textbook behavior and I knew that she wouldn't be able to help me.

I followed her outside, watching the vessel's legs steadily walking among trees, as she led me into a forest. She stopped when she thought we'd gone far enough, wasting no time as she bent my body to her will, and forced me to my knees with no real effort.

"See, Meg. You're one of the top four on hell's most wanted list. At least, you used to be, before Crowley stabbed you through. In fact, wasn't it right about there?" She tilted the vessel's blond head at me, her dark eyes going from mine to the now fresh wound on my stomach. I could feel the warm blood flowing out of me, seeping through my clothes, and dripping onto the ground.

"You're not going to scream for me? What, two seconds as a human and you already have dignity. That makes this more fun. You should still know how this works." I could feel her power going around in circles, the wind shifting the air into strong gusts, until it focused me. I heard a sickening snap of bones as she threw me into a tree. A few of my ribs were broken from the force.

"Joining up with the Winchesters…" She released me, leaving me to fall hard to the solid ground. I've forgotten that being human really sucked. I shakily tried getting to my feet, but the pain had me right back down, "…and that filthy backstabbing angel! He's not even cutout to whisper in the halls of hell and you know what, I'm waiting for the day that Crowley gives him much worse."

I felt lightheaded and weak. It was difficult to keep my eyes open against the pain. I coughed up the thick blood that had begun filling in my throat. She crouched down next to me, mock pitying me with a look of compassion. "You poor thing, did you actually think they would warm up to you? Even now, do you think they would give a shit about your sacrifice? Do you think _he_ even cared that you were dead?"

I never expected Castiel to care for me, even when he outright demonstrated that he did.

"Are you planning to sweet-talk me all night or were you actually going to kill me?" I gasped through a bitter, painful fit of laughter. Things were becoming harder to see and even the light was turning dark. I would really just like to die now.

"Welcome home, Meg." She smirked cruelly, as she moved her hand, manipulating and shaping her power. That's when I experienced the most profound torment I have ever known, an unnatural affliction that had my insides burning, a scream escaping from deep within my chest.

My body writhed violently, arching and crashing against the pure agony. It would only take seconds before it was over. I knew that I couldn't last for much longer and that no one would save me. I was slipping away and I was fine with it. This was how it was meant to be anyway.

"Not exactly." The familiar, deep voice struck me like ice. I almost couldn't believe it, the more reasonable part of me still wouldn't, but the demon's compulsion had ceased completely. I opened my eyes long enough to watch Castiel's palm pressed firmly to the vessel's forehead, smiting her with ease. Light poured from her eyes and mouth as she cried out.

"Nnhh…I-I…C-Cla…" I whimpered. My vision, blurring to the point of ineffectiveness, I gave up on trying to see. I felt him grab my hand, when I reached out for him. I knew he wouldn't give me death, even if I begged him to.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner." His other hand came up to the side of my face. My pain was being soothed by every touch. I felt the back of his thumb softly caress my cheek as he quietly murmured, "Rest."

The darkness came swiftly, enveloping me in warmth and contentment.

-  
**TBC**


	3. Run

**A/N:** Yay! So, here's another chapter. I'm pretty happy with how this story is moving along. Thank you to the new followers and to Annie for leaving a review. Feelin' positive!

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**Heaven's Grief**

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_I'm in misery where you can seem_  
_as old as your omens.–_ "The Mother We Share" by CHVRCHES

Chapter Three: _Run_

I came to hours later, relieved that there was no longer any pain, only comfort. My body was gently being rocked, like I was in a moving car. I could probably have slept more and I seriously considered it, as I buried my face into whatever I had been nestled against this entire time. It was soft and firm, although the material was rough. It smelled familiar and quite nice, like clean linen on a rainy day…

What the hell was that?

It took only moments for it to hit me, as I abruptly sat up. Castiel slowly looked to his shoulder where I was resting and then towards the window I had practically thrown myself against in a frantic attempt to separate us.

The briefest smile touched his lips, as he spoke, "Meg."

"Where are we?" I ignored the affectionate tone he used when saying my name and denied myself the warmth I felt from it. There were questions I wanted to ask him, yet I was finding it difficult to even look him in the eye. I took in our surroundings, deducing that we were on a Greyhound bus somewhere on a highway. Unfortunately, that was still too vague. If Castiel truly had the Angel Tablet, then we were in serious danger, which would be no different from any other day.

"We're on a bus," he said matter-of-factly, a genius of bluntly stating the obvious. I shook my head, "Yes. I can see that we're on a bus, _Clarence_." Maybe he purposefully avoided telling me. I tried rephrasing, "I meant to say, what state are we in? Where are we going?"

He averted his gaze to the floor, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that." There was something notably solemn about his words that gave me chills. I was frightened by what he meant, knowing full well what he was capable of doing and how obstinate he was whenever he believed in something.

My voice was small, failing miserably to remain calm, "What do you mean?" He lifted his face to glare at me accusingly, his eyes the darkest shade of sapphire. I was both terrified and captivated, drawn in like I always was, except now it was more difficult to hide it. It was near impossible to shut it out, even under these conditions.

He was quick in his movements, clasping a hand over my mouth, and shutting his eyes. I knew what he had done by the resounding echo of wings fluttering. The sudden, anomalous speed of travel left me feeling unsteady and nauseated. His arms kept me from falling as he caught me by my waist. It probably wouldn't have done me any good to thank him.

My relief was short-lived when he roughly pinned me to a wall, successfully knocking the wind out of me. He leaned in close, his warm breath reaching my lips. "Demons aren't afforded second chances, Meg." The hard surface threatened to give away from the brute force as he continued pressing me against it with his firm grip on my shoulders. "So, why were _you_ an exception?"

I didn't have that answer. "I don't know why I was brought back. That's why I called on you." I stared up at him, searching his eyes for some form of remorse. I felt cold, realizing that there was none. "If you feel that you can't trust me, then you probably shouldn't. Do whatever you must, even if it means killing me."

"Naomi wouldn't have you so delicate as this..." He trailed thoughtfully to himself. Even if it seemed as though he was rationalizing things in my favor, his fingers were starting to dig into my skin. "Heaven doesn't have anything to gain from your revival."

"Who is Naomi?" The image of a woman flashed in my mind. I'd seen her in my visions. I understood her to be the angel who controlled Castiel. "Wait…I think I know, and I suppose I should be grateful that she hadn't ordered you to kill me." I gave a cynical laugh, almost furious that he had been compromised and vulnerable again. At least the last time that happened, I was watching over him.

"How do you know about that?" I looked at his lips as he spoke. Our mouths were mere inches away from brushing. His closeness, his touch, his voice – everything was distracting. I was being obvious and he knew it as well, yet he did nothing to ease the tension.

I cleared my throat, but my words still came out as a whisper. "There were images or fragments of things, happenings. Some were of you and some were of the Winchesters. Of yours, I knew for sure that you've escaped with the Angel Tablet. I saw Naomi and I know of what you've done while under her control." He suddenly released me as if my skin had burned him. He took a few steps back. "Crowley told me about the Winchester's plan to seal the gates to Hell, but I actually saw Sam undergoing the trails. That's about it."

He tore his eyes away from mine, "It's not possible."

I tried lying in order to place logic. I knew that if Crowley wanted this that he would have already found me. "I'm thinking that maybe Crowley might've-"

"God did this." That was the one response I didn't want to hear. Most of all, because that couldn't have been true either. He was so sure about something he couldn't even conceive of just moments ago.

I had already begun denying his reason, "He wouldn't. I mean, look at my record. It's not exactly sparkling and unmarred. I have killed people; way more good people than bad."

His presaging steps towards me had my heart pounding. "It is God's will. Your existence holds purpose." The intensity in his blue eyes as he looked at me then should have been enough to make me believe, but I couldn't.

When he was standing directly in front me, I stared at the ground. I didn't want to see him, ashamed by what I was about to request. "Look – I don't deserve to be here. I knew that if I begged you that you wouldn't be able to do this task, so I am asking you with the upmost sincerity…"

His voice was low and rough, angry almost. "No."

I sank down to the floor, feeling overwhelmed and defeated. My arms folded over my head, my elbows to my knees, as I started to cry, "Please kill me… Please! Castiel, I can't do this. I can't live like this. I don't want to remember anything. I don't want to feel..." He was at my side, touching the top of my shoulder.

"You've certainly changed," he muttered dryly, dismissing all I had confessed. Even then, I didn't know if I should feel offended by his remark or simply agree.

I wiped at my face, "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't think my wholehearted plea to die would be such an imposition." The surroundings changed, probably from when he touched my shoulder. We were now in what appeared to be a hotel room. "Don't worry your pretty head. I'm sure my wit and sarcasm will be back in no time, Clarence."

"You just need to get back on the wagon." My mouth fell open to respond, when he awkwardly quipped. "It's not a real wagon. It's a metaphor."

I bit out, "Metaphor. Got it."

"What I've learned about humans from being the Winchester's guardian is that they need to eat, shower, and sleep." He extended his skills, disappearing for what could have only been a few minutes, before reappearing with a takeout bag from Biggerson's restaurant. There were two other bags on him. One was a green duffle bag and the other was an ordinary shopping bag.

He placed the food down on the table. "Come and eat."

I did as he asked, unwrapping a cheeseburger. I was starved and I liked the fact that despite Castiel not being human, he knew how to take care of one besides just protecting them. I considered telling him that I was a mortal once before, but I didn't want to get into it. I didn't want to know if he could see every dark corner of my past.

"What happens now that you have the Angel Tablet? You're not just gonna keep it in that obvious green bag are you?" I looked at him skeptically, wondering if that was what he truly intended on doing.

"The bag is a temporary solution." I nodded, somewhat comforted by the thought that my angel hadn't completely lost his marbles. He continued with a sigh, "And as for the time being, we run."

"Well, as luck would have it, I'm quite good at running." I took a long sip of my drink, feeling his eyes burning holes into my skin, even after I finished it. "Castiel…"

"There are some clothes." He gestured towards the shopping bag on the bed. "I know with certainty that they will fit you." This was too much to wrap my head around. Castiel was at a clothing store for women, standing in front of an array of feminine undergarments. I could see him clearly now, hesitantly acquiring assistance for his awkward needs.

I covered a hand over my mouth, hiding my smile. "That was real kind of you."

"No, it wasn't. Anyone would have done the same." His humility was just as fierce and resonated enough to rival that of his faith. I wouldn't argue against something that precious. "I have to go…check on something."

Ever vague, Castiel…

And then he was gone, leaving me here with plenty of food and a new wardrobe.

Curious, I went over and started rummaging through the clothing. I expected to see black leather and tight graphic tees, but there was nothing dark in the bag. There were a couple of long loose fitted shirts, pairs of light colored straight-legged jeans, and a simple plaid jacket. It dawned on me that he must've shopped in the junior department. I pulled out a package of patterned socks, cursing low under my breath. Damn him.

I mentally cringed remembering that he said everything would fit, meaning he knew my exact measurements. The bras and panties were just as decorated as the socks, yet fortunately they were tasteful for a teenager's selection. The last item was a pair of brown combat boots, which in our situation only made sense.

When it was getting late, I felt tired. No sign of Castiel and waiting up seemed pointless without a timeline of when he'd return. I decided to take a shower and stood under the hot water. My body should have been broken and bruised in various places, but I was renewed since having been healed. I guess that was one perk to being human again. My hands moved in a semi familiar ritual, washing and rinsing until I was clean.

I changed into a pair of underwear and one of the shirts, before resigning myself to bed. There was something comfortable about needing to sleep and being able to fall right into it. Since I was half delirious, I easily forgave the set of angel wings printed on the back of the shirt I was wearing.

Maybe I would eventually learn to see the humor.

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**TBC**


	4. Angels

**A/N:** Ever feel like these chapters are just getting longer? They probably are. They probably most definitely are! My apologies to anyone who is not liking Meg's past, as there will be a bunch of it coming up. There's a lot of it in this chapter, too. Thank you so much for the new favorites and followers! I pay attention to all of of it and it means a lot to me.

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**Heaven's Grief**_  
_

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_My saving grace is saving face,  
Lost on the back burner_. – "My Saving Grace" by Armor For Sleep

Chapter Four: _Angels _

It was early morning when my mother shook me awake. The air was crisp and the room was freezing cold. The horses were drawn and my belongings were safely packed away. I did not like the idea of leaving my family, but I found solace in the fact that I would return in a month's time. I sat still while my mother braided my hair. I did not speak during breakfast, but rather agonized over the thought of being around William, and his noble relatives.

They were snobbish high-hats and I knew that I would not belong.

"You must smile whenever he is in your presence. Laugh modestly whenever he tells a joke, even if you do not find it amusing. Be mindful of your sharp tongue and do not ever openly speak your mind." These were words that I have heard before, maybe even a dozen times. I nodded with that same smile my mother was asking me to fake. "Of course, mother."

Jane and Sarah came from their room. The smallest, Jane, would be turning six while I was away. She told me how upset she was about it, until I promised to bring home sweets. Sarah was ten years old and bright. She already knew how to read and write as a result of my constant attention. My sisters, I feared I would miss them the most.

"Megan, must you leave?" Jane asked, as she scratched at the top of her freckled nose, a sign that she was sad. I smiled sadly, "Yes. I must leave, but I will be back as soon as I can. And it will feel like a long time, but it is only half a season. Do you know how fast those go by?"

The tears I knew would be coming were swelling up in her brown eyes as she nodded. Sarah was more difficult, looking tensed with forced anger, but I knew it would not last long. "I do not see why you must go. We would be fine as long as we were together."

"That may be so, but Lord William is a good man." It took me forever to convince myself of that reality and it was easier now for the lie to roll off my tongue. I needed to be strong in front of them, even if it hurt. I rationalized it, "And we need some good in our lives."

My mother stepped in from outdoors, wrapping herself securely in her shawl against the rain that had started to come down hard. "Make haste now, child. It is time to go."

"Remember to write to us!" I felt Sarah close her small arms around me and Jane's soon followed. Their heartfelt embrace caused me to break little by little as I held onto their arms, hugging them back. They were shaking and wracked with sobs. Every part of my being was reluctant to let them go. "I will write you, I promise."

Their grips slipped away, as I removed myself from them. And when I reached the doorway, I turned to look at them for the few moments that I was spared. "You will be all right, do you understand me?" My mother's voice was harsh as she pulled me to her and held on tightly. "Here, take this with you and do not lose it." She placed something in my hand, a hard covered book. "It was your father's… allow it to give you courage."

"Thank you," my gratitude came out as a shaky breath. I was touched and overwhelmed, since she kept my father's belongings locked away like treasures, such as they were. She gently released me and watched forlornly as I was helped into the carriage. I did not look out the side, knowing that my family would be standing there until I was out of sight.

Halfway down the road, I wished I had been unable to see the plague bearers retrieving what could only have been bodies from our neighbors, the Morris home. Four coffins were laid on the grass and the graves were dug fresh beside them. My stomach fell and my heart tugged at the loss. A once happy and healthy family was so swiftly gone.

All I could do was pray.

* * *

I woke up with a pounding headache, not at all surprised considering the unwelcomed memory from my past. The more they occurred, the more vivid and real they felt. The clock on the bedside table indicated that I had only slept for three hours. My hand reached for the bag of clothing, finding myself a pair of jeans, and slid them on. I threw my hair up and walked into the bathroom to wash my face. It all seemed natural to me at this point.

My eyes looked up into the mirror from habit, nearly jumping out of my skin when I saw Castiel standing behind me. I turned and gripped the counter with my hands, sarcastically muttering, "Oh, hi. Welcome back. No need to announce yourself or anything."

He asked, genuinely confused. "Why would I need to do that?"

"You're popping in and out on people unexpectedly and you can't understand why it might be better to tell them that you're there?" I unwrapped one of the hotel's toothbrushes, trying to ignore the intrigued angel who was still standing so close me. I looked at him in the reflection, growing impatient, "Well?"

"I can see how it would simplify things." 'But I wouldn't be taking it under advisement' was the part he didn't add to the end of his statement.

I rinsed my mouth out into the sink and walked past him into the room. "See Clarence, that's why you make people uneasy." He abruptly appeared in front of me, startling me once again. His face was at least somewhat apologetic this time, "You were right about the bag. I can't keep the Angel Tablet there, Meg."

"Is that where you were all night? Looking for a place to hide it?" Seeing how the bag was still on him, it was safe to assume that he had failed in that mission. He wouldn't trust the Angel Tablet any place he could think of, not that I blamed him. "If it's not in your hands, then it's not a place you can trust storing it, am I right?"

He looked me in the eye. "Yes."

"It's not like you can swallow it whole or that would be the first thing I'd suggest." I shook my head at the thought, trying to remove the image of Castiel swallowing it in one bite from my mind. Why was I so cruel to myself? "If I still had my mojo, I would have found a way to turn the tablet invisible at the very least."

He grew still, his blue eyes flashing seriously, "You've given me an idea." I silently watched him, as he tugged his shirt free from his slacks. His slender fingers worked at the buttons that kept the fabric fastened together. "I can conceal the Angel Tablet inside of me." I held in a breath, as his shirt hung loose over his shoulders, revealing his smooth skin to me.

Of course, Castiel was nothing short of perfection. I considered what he would look like beneath the trench coat and suit a few times while I was still a demon. Back then my longing for Castiel was perhaps the only quality of being human about me. It was enough to change me and it even gave me hope in my otherwise dim existence. How many times had I thought of him while I was being tortured, unable to do anything except wait to die, or be freed?

My angel, no – my unicorn was oblivious to the predicament he was currently placing me in. Unashamed, I greedily took him in, first to his chest that was delicately sculpted, then to his arms that were toned and straining beneath the layers of his clothing. His muscles flexed as he reached for the duffle bag to retrieve the tablet. Then from his abdomen to his navel and lower to the top of his pants where my view was cut off, was firm and lightly built just like the rest of him.

"Your face is red." I snapped out of my reverie upon hearing his rough voice. I hadn't even realized the growing warmth in my face, until he mentioned it. Not that there was much to be done about it.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some composure. "So, how is this going to work?" He answered me by bringing the tablet to his stomach, a whitish blue light poured from his hands that then melded the hard stone to his skin. He eased the tablet with precision, a look of slight pain and concentration on his face, until the process was finished.

"Well done, Clarence. You sure know how to impress a girl." I stepped closer to him, staring at the spot where he absorbed the tablet, not seeing any signs that he had forcibly shoved something into his stomach.

He seemed proud of himself. "Admittedly, the idea was inspired by your suggestion to consume the tablet."

"I wouldn't have thought of this…" I brought my hand up intending to touch him, when I paused in my actions. That probably wouldn't have been appropriate, not like he was making a move to dress himself. He stood there, his blue eyes curious as they watched me. It was different when we were alone with each other, almost like the tension resumed full force.

"You can't feel it," he said in a soft tone, grabbing my forearm before I could pull away. His fingers slid down to my wrist as he placed my palm against his warm skin. I looked at him, confused, when a small smile touched the corners of his lips, "Your mind speaks loudly, Meg."

"And just how much do you hear?" My heart started to pound, something that was an annoying occurrence while in his presence. I was transparent and vulnerable to an angel who indulged himself in my privacy. His hand closed over my own, drawing it up along his abdomen in a slow caress, and I had to wonder if these were my desires, his, or maybe a combination of both.

I leaned forward on my toes, as my arm moved up, supported by the firm pressure of his other hand that was now at the small of my back. His body was hard and warm against mine as he pressed us together. I could feel it this time, the heat resurfacing on my face as his dark eyes pierced through me, and his lips parted to speak steady and deep with conviction, "Everything."

My voice came out just as hushed as his, "What is everything?" I wanted him to tell me. I needed to know that he understood exactly what that meant, to know everything, and that his affection wasn't something imagined; that it had always been consistently real and in accordance with his actions.

"My answer would take hours to show you. Unfortunately, we've stayed here for too long." His eyes roamed cautiously around the room, like he could hear something or see something that I couldn't, not with my human senses anyway.

"I guess I should start packing up." He instead took hold of my wrist again and began to walk briskly, when suddenly we were aboard a train, his pace never slowing despite the unpleasant effects teleportation had on me. I could see that he was now dressed. I took notice of the changes he made to me as well, as there was now a messenger bag hitting the back of my legs, probably filled with my new belongings. I was even wearing my boots.

He released me once we were inside an unoccupied sleeper. "Stay here." Where else would I go? I sat down and waited what was only seconds for him to return with a plate of pizza in his hands.

I took the plate from him. "Boy, you're just dropping all sorts of subtle hints today."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

He was a bad, horrible liar.

"Pizza," I said teasingly, my smile reaching my eyes as I stared at him.

He took a seat across from me and leaned forward, "A coincidence."

I titled my head at him, "Showing me your answer for hours."

He sat back and remained quiet, caught and amused by it.

"And for the record, a girl doesn't need to eat this much." He had stacked the plate up with six slices of pepperoni pizza. Yesterday there were over ten burgers in the Biggerson's bag. I didn't want this to become a thing.

"I'm used to being around the Winchesters. Their appetites are quite extensive, especially Dean's. He – once stopped off to participate in a pie eating contest against a man who held the record of eating fifteen in under twenty minutes. Dean won with twenty-five pies four minutes under that time."

"I'll have to remember to congratulate him when I see him," I laughed, enjoying the happiness that was evident on Castiel's face at what could only have been a good memory.

"Dean is mad and I doubt he would want to see me." Even without him telling me what the argument was about, there were still things that the Winchester wouldn't readily forgive Castiel for, if at all. The fact that the angel had the tablet and was guarding it by himself could only have meant that he didn't trust Dean, a blow to the hunter who would always be loyal.

"I don't think there's ever a time when Dean Winchester doesn't want to see you, especially when he's upset."

He looked at me and knew that it was true, but he would most likely keep his distance.

I turned in the seat and curled my legs up, trying to get comfortable. My eyes shut and soon it was impossible to open them again. The soft lull of the train moving beneath us and the security of Castiel's presence made it easy for me to fall asleep. I felt him grab the plate from my loosening grip and moved so that he was now sitting next to me.

It would be okay if things stayed like this for a while.

Maybe I didn't care for the answers anymore.

I should start living again.

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Demons

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry that there was no update yesterday. I think I've been doing well with keeping this story at consistent pace. Sadly, the next update will have to be sometime late Monday night. Look forward to it! Thank you for your continued support.

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**Heaven's Grief**

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_There's too many stars reaching over the horizon._  
_Let 'em burn out, let 'em burn. _– "Burn" by Madi Diaz

Chapter Five: _Demons_

Plain red service attire, boorish wooden and brick wall interior; there was so much brown it almost made me feel sick. Fortunately the food was better here at Biggerson's, a food chain that had no shortage of wealth.

"I'll have a coffee."

I raised an eyebrow at the odd request, "I didn't know you were into caffeine."

"I sometimes even order something to eat."

Castiel was full of all sorts of surprises.

I ordered myself a chicken salad, handing back the menu to our waitress. "This is a really depressing first date." I wondered then, what that might actually be like, to have Castiel choose the location and activities for the evening. For someone who was so lacking in social skills, he always gave it an honest try. His favorites were probably complex and specific and that was fascinating to me.

He stared at me seriously, "Are we on a date?"

"I don't mean to turn this '_oh so' _romantic moment into a dramatic one, but I feel like I have to ask you this." I busied myself with the napkin in my hand, twisting it tightly upon itself until it tore. He looked receptive, his resolve just as steady as his patience, even while we were in imminent danger. "How did you find out that I was dead?"

"Dean." He gave an exhausted sigh. I could tell that he didn't want to discuss it but he continued anyway, as it was something I asked directly and he didn't want to disappoint. "It was part of Dean's prayer. He said many things that should have, that _did _hurt me, but then he said you were dead. He said that he watched Crowley stab you with an Angel Blade."

I laughed sardonically, thinking of that bastard's joy from having killed me. The Winchesters wouldn't have grieved my death. I wasn't someone you would miss. "Come now, my being gone was probably…" My musings ended with one look from the angel, proving me otherwise. It wasn't like Castiel was completely repressed these days, but a part of me had a difficult time imagining an angel in mourning over a demon.

The waitress returned with my salad and a coffee. "If I can get you a refill for your cup or anything else just let me know." He quietly thanked her and took the mug into his hands as if he were holding it just for the warmth.

"Why do you look so strained?" I picked at the food with my fork, too unsettled to take a bite. My eyes flickered to his, watching him carefully. It was moments like these where I wished I had my powers back, so I could at least shoulder some of his burdens with any semblance of confidence. I wanted to be useful and I didn't want to feel like unnecessary weight.

He breathed out wearily, "They're closing in on me…"

"But you've been one step ahead of them this whole time."

"They're able to see wherever I go, Meg." I slowly shook my head at his words, as if that would get rid of the situation. I was scrambling to think of something resourceful. "And they will be here soon." He took a sip of his coffee, before calmly setting it back down on the table. "I thought that by teleporting from one public transport to another that they would be thrown from my trail. The buses, the trains, they look similar on the inside making it more difficult for them to pin an exact location. But it only saved us a few hours."

Repetitive…

A place that blends right into the next.

"I forgot this! I'm so, so sorry." I could hear our waitress stammering, as she placed down Biggerson's homemade dressing. The dark red and brown bottle had me mentally cringing. Who would find this appealing, and more importantly, why did I care so much about their consistently horrible color scheme? Maybe I hated it because everyone loved it.

Though, what else was new…

**Nothing.** Not a damn thing.

Still brown and red, brick and wood.

"You had the right idea." I could feel my face light up as I beamed a smile at him, savoring the way his blue eyes stared back curiously. "How many Biggerson's do you suppose there are in the states? What's more, how many in other countries, all with the very same hideous brown tapestry? Once you've seen one Biggerson's, you've seen them all."

He narrowed his eyes at me with realization and adoration that I wished would never end. "Yes. That's perfect."

Pleased by the fact that our usual roles were now reversed, I started with the line he said yesterday, "Admittedly, the idea was inspired by you." Leaning in across the table, my elbows settled at the sides of my plate. "Frankly, I think I deserve a sticker for all my good work."

"I might be able to acquire one of those." I gripped the sleeve of his coat before he could poof away to a twenty-five cent machine. He sat back in his chair, allowing me to hold him there. "Can you bring me somewhere?"

"Yes, as long as it is a place that still exists…" His fingers gently brushed the top of my hand, where it was still wound tightly around his sleeve. It was unnerving how the simplest of touches could affect me. "…you'll have to imagine it."

It seemed simple enough, so I did as he instructed. The place I was thinking of changed throughout the ages; a modest countryside that had since turned to ash. The memories were buried beneath the land's soil. However I could vividly see every house. I could tell where every tree once stood, the river and how it felt between my toes, and the wild flowers and fruits with autumn's harvest on its way.

There really was no place like home.

The air shifted beneath me, our hands remaining still. The smell was intoxicating, as I breathed in enough to fill my lungs. I slowly opened my eyes as if I were removing a blindfold and this was to be my present. The land was just as magnificent as I remembered. I took him with me, leading him through the wheat covered field we arrived in.

He appeared to be just as amazed by the scenery as I was. He reached a hand out and felt each strand as we passed by, "It's very beautiful."

"You should see it in the spring." He stood motionless then, refusing to take another step, even with my vain attempts to tug him along. "Come on, Clarence. You don't see a field like this and just leave it alone. Besides, the river is this way."

"Meg," He looked at me seriously, as he gently pulled me to him by our hands that were still held together. "I like you human." I was unsure of how to properly accept the compliment, if it was even one. I briefly wondered if he had taken a trip into my mind earlier. "I like you this way, because I can see everything."

Why was he saying this? I found myself staring at the pattern on his tie, trying to distract myself from getting more upset. "Where is this coming from?"

"Teleporting is taking its toll on you and I'll have to do it often-"

I shoved that fact aside, "No."

"…and I have to move quickly. It'll become more dangerous."

"Please." I didn't want to hear it.

He raised his voice, "I'll be back before nightfall. I won't give them the opportunity to use you against me." I stared up at him, incredulous and hurt overall. I tried to pull free from his grip, when he suddenly closed the space between us, brushing his warm mouth against mine.

I leaned into the kiss, as my arms circled around his waist beneath his coat, pressing my fingers into his skin at the feeling of his tongue teasing across my lips. This distraction wasn't enough to settle my anger, not even slightly. He moved his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back to better angle his mouth. My jaw lowered in rhythm with his own.

His fingertips skimmed across the side of my neck in feather-light touches, as the next kiss was tender, and soft. It felt like he was testing me, as the next moment was graceless on his part, forcing me backwards onto the hard ground. His body settled on top of mine, the weight was heavy and comfortable. My lips parted over his tongue as it swept over mine in expert strokes. I sighed softly against him.

My mind was a scattered mess as he continued to pick me apart like a puzzle he had solved a thousand times before. He caught my hand and pinned it above my head, and started pressing kisses along the underside of my arm. It was a slow torture, leaving my skin feeling flushed and heated. It took every bit of restraint I had left to turn my face away from his when his mouth fell to the column of my neck, teasing with the tip of his tongue in strong circles, before nipping gently.

"Castiel…" He pressed his hips into mine, drawing another sound from me. My stomach grew tight under his ministrations, completely gone by the time he made it back up to consume my lips leaving me breathless as a result. He pulled away long enough to look at me and see what he had done. His eyes were nearly black when he stared at me then, and there was nothing gentle about the way he roughly dragged his thumb over my bottom lip.

"I need to leave. Now." I didn't have the chance to continue my losing argument, not like that would ever happen while he kissed me into oblivion. He already flashed away, leaving me to think about what had just occurred. Maybe I could write it off as something that was long overdue, but it was something more intricate than that.

Back to my own devices. Right. Every moment of that kiss was now burned at the front of my mind, demanding my attention. From the way he looked right through me to how right his mouth felt against mine. Several times it stopped me in my tracks to the river. His words replayed in my head, along with the actions that led me to the ground, and the loss I felt when my arms and legs closed around air. It would haunt me all day; that and the fact that I wasn't with him right now.

Sadly, he made a good point against my going with him and he would be able to make a dozen more. I couldn't stop worrying, even if he was confident about coming back. The less I could do as a human, the more useless I felt.

* * *

The carriage came to a halt halfway up the road with the coachman unwilling to go any further. He was quick to unload my belongings and left the near abandoned village. I did not care to take my things with me, as I walked with heavy steps along the familiar muddy path to my home. The foreign smell that permeated was from a very distinct source and I felt as though I was walking through a graveyard.

Outside I could see a priest with his book in one hand and his rosary trembling in the other. I felt disgusted and ashamed as I stormed over to him, "If you cannot so much as hold their hands whilst you recite their last rites, then you do not belong here." He was saying his apologies, but no words could ever be good enough. "Father, if you value your life, then you will leave me be."

He grabbed me by my arm. "I beg of you, do not stay. There is only death for you here." In my mind, I had died once already. It was the very moment I received word about my family fallen ill. The future that was assured to us and the dreams that belonged to me were broken one by one. I felt the tears in my eyes pour over, just when I thought I wouldn't be able to cry anymore.

"To be with them, death means living long and happy. Now go see to those less fortunate." My arms shook, using all of my effort to push him away from me. It was enough to set him off balance and straight into a pool the mud. I touched my fingers to the handle, when a loud bark of laughter ripped through the silence on the other end.

The door opened, to reveal the priest standing there with a smug grin on his face. "Luckily for you, bravery is a sure way to get you killed." His eyes were luminous as they glowed yellow. "But why just die, Meg? You seem like an ambitious girl."

That voice, the mannerisms, the quick movement. This was not the same man, if he had been a man at all. Maybe this was a trauma induced hallucination? I was hesitant to ask, but fear was something that no longer daunted me, "Who are you?"

"That is always the first question." He rolled his eyes at me, as he turned to walk further inside my home, making himself comfortable. "Now give me the second question, come on. What am I?"

I shrugged my shoulders, unsure and lacking the motivation to think, "Are you an angel?"

"Better, my dear," He practically cooed, as he sat at the edge of the table and followed my every move with those unnatural pair of eyes, like a feline might stalk its prey. "I could kill you for free or we can make a deal."

I laughed once, the choice too easy. "Kill me."

"Hear my offer first." He was suddenly behind me, sliding his hands up over my back. "Let us not get ahead of ourselves. We both know how ready you are to die. You are practically starving for it, are you not? Without your family, why should you exist anymore? That loyalty, Meg, is a quality that is so rare to find."

"What is your offer?"

"There we go." He clapped his hands together in excitement. "I will raise one from your flock for you, Meg. That infernal plague will no longer be able to touch them. In exchange, I will have to ask you for something..."

"All of them or no deal."

Within a blink of an eye, he appeared in the shadows of the hallway, laughing darkly as he teased, "Oh, Meg. Mass resurrection for the whole lot? Little Jane and Sarah, even your mother, all were sick and dying today, but suddenly by some miracle tomorrow they are not. How would the people react?"

He nodded to himself, coming to the conclusion that my terms were final. His golden eyes were unable to conceal his satisfaction. "You would know best." My lashes fell against the cold gust of wind that breezed past my face, startled to find him standing right in front of me. "Now to seal the deal," he whispered, as he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss. "We will be back together shortly."

He vanished as though he were never there to begin with. If he was all he claimed to be, then my family would be alive.

My legs carried me through each room, until the last one, which belonged to my mother. I eased the door opened and felt the last piece of me **snap**. The breath was stolen from me, as I saw them lifeless on the bed. Jane's small arm hung off the side of the mattress, her stuffed rabbit on the floor. I pretended for a moment that they were asleep, tucking her hand back under the blankets for the warmth she did not need. Sarah's dark lips were parted, her eyes half lidded in an empty stare. My mother laid between them with each arm around their shoulders, as if she had been holding them to her.

The moment seemed to last for as long as an eternity, when they finally started gasping for air, the lights shining in their eyes, and color returning to their faces once again. For all I knew, I had made a deal with Satan himself, but at least he kept his promises, whereas God did not lift a finger to my cries.

* * *

I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, my chest heaving as fresh tears slid down the sides of my face. Jarring myself awake from sheer force of will worked for me this time or perhaps the dream had simply run its course. I didn't want to remember and thanks to Hell, I was able to keep the memories down until recently. The events that happened after I signed my soul away to Azazel were far worse than anything I had ever experienced or done since. And it was all my fault.

That's when I noticed that it was dark, probably even late into the evening. I had no idea when I had fallen asleep, but the more concerning part was why I was never woken up. Castiel should have been back hours ago. The angel wouldn't go against his word. Something must've happened, and I had no way of knowing what it could have been.

I grabbed the messenger bag I had been using as a pillow and slung it over my shoulder. I didn't know where to start first. Contact Dean and Sam, without having any way of doing so, as their numbers change constantly. Fly my way back to the states, without money or any form of identification. I couldn't even summon a demon.

The safest option, the only option was to stay put and hope that Castiel was alive, and that he would return as he said he would. But I needed to do something. I couldn't just stay here while something was happening to him. I collapsed to the ground in defeat, feeling dejected and hopeless. I realized then that this would be a continuous cycle.

I wouldn't be able to save him. Ever.

* * *

**TBC**


	6. Oh, Lord

**A/N:** Second to last chapter! I'm very sorry for the late update. This is the last piece of Meg's past and I warn you that it's pretty disturbing. There is also sex in this chapter. Quite a bit of it and I am rusty. Bear this in mind while reading. Thank you to the new favorites and followers!

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**Heaven's Grief**

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_Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not._  
_He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got. _– "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars

Chapter Six: _Oh, Lord_

Human beings shouldn't need to sleep this much. I couldn't take much more of this incessant need to close my eyes and keep them that way. I knew what was waiting for me should I indulge myself. I'd rather remember those I tortured just for fun. It used to be somewhat of a symphony; the cries and the shrilling from countless men, women, even children, just because I could.

Because I was unstoppable.

Because Hell gave me something _real_ to believe in.

And after having my way with the living…Once I realized that I was good at my craft and that my hunger for more could not be sated, I started torturing the damned. I would put them on the rack and slice away at their souls, until they were in shreds. How many men and women I had turned away from their ever dwindling humanity was countless. It used to bring me such pleasure watching their memories and feelings fade like the dimming flame of a candle, as I would act as that one last breath to blow them out.

Somehow, along that very same path, I had forgotten everything about myself and I did as I was told, like a good obedient whore. I accepted what I was given and I never questioned a single command. Now I knew why I was so resentful towards the Winchesters, the brothers who still had each other. Their fierce loyalty and seemingly reckless sacrifices to save one another was so magnanimous of them and I was envious of it.

Then again I'd always had a soft spot for family.

The smell of burning wood was heavy in the air, nearly suffocating me. My eyes fought to stay open as they watered up in irritation and the back of my throat itched. Searching for the source, I turned in every direction, but there wasn't a fire and I couldn't see any signs of smoke. My chest heaved for clean intakes of breath, as I made an attempt to escape from the scorching heat at my legs. I pressed my back against a nearby tree to stable myself and grew worried over the fact that there shouldn't have been a tree there at all, as they should have all burned down.

When I opened my eyes against the sudden intense pain, I wasn't alone. My mother and sisters were strapped in a row to trees beside mine. All who remained from our once peaceful town were here to watch as they had done all those decades ago. I struggled against the thick layers of rope, but it was no use. Not a single detail was out of place. It was the same as before. My family was shaking, deliriously sobbing from having been overcome with fear. I could hear my mother as she begged for our lives. She didn't understand why we were at fault, remaining innocent in the eyes of God and myself.

'_Witches_', I could hear them muttering, '_Satanists_'.

"It takes one to know one," I said as I roamed eyes over the familiar faces, yet not a single person was recognizable to me, at least not anymore. Not after these grisly affairs. Timothy Grey, the one who was in charge of holding the execution, stepped closer to me. Our eyes briefly met before the back of his hand came down hard against the side of my face. He seemed satisfied when Jane's high-pitched screaming filled the silence and Sarah pleaded for him to stop. Another heavy blow caused me to grunt in discomfort, tasting the coppery tang of blood.

"Hold your tongue, Witch." He cast me a glare before he turned back towards the crowd, "Megan used witchcraft to perform necromancy, a curse that only Satan himself could endow should she accept him into her heart." I threw my head back in laughter, in spite of the pain that felt unmistakably real or the sweat on my brow, the blood touching my tongue as it soothed the cut in my mouth. "You idiots burn us and I come back with my new family, taking out the entire town and swallowing it into the depths of Hell."

Gasps resounded like music to my ears, as their malicious expressions dropped into ones that were now filled with traces of fear and doubt. My eyes burned through them knowingly. Timothy didn't appear to be convinced by what had become of their fate just months after this occurred, "Do not listen when the devil speaks for all she says are lies."

"Megan?" I looked at my mother upon hearing her shaking voice. The faint glow of the torches revealed a new look of terror on her face and finally the tears fell in lines down my cheeks. Back then I didn't have enough sense to say anything. I never admitted that this was my fault. I didn't want them to look at me the way they were right now. Just like those who damned us, I was no different in their eyes.

"The fire shall cleanse you of your sins." Timothy's words were the final vow before death, as he was handed a torch. He started with Sarah and then Jane, making sure that he stared at them directly as he lit the hay at their feet. My mother fought against her bindings, "No, no, no! Please! They're just children!"

He incinerated the hay beneath my mother and finished with me. The straw burned quick and it wasn't long before Sarah was screaming in agony. The fire caught onto her stockings, crawling and inching further up along her body. I could see Azazel moving through the crowd with all the fluidity of a snake. He was wearing the priest as his vessel. His yellow eyes glowed with the fire reflecting in them with an amused look of _I told you so_.

"Mother," I managed to breathe out through short gasps, the smoke filling my lungs with every inhale. The painful sounds of Jane wailing and Sarah screaming were enough to drown out my voice, but I had to try anyway. She kept her eyes on my sisters, trying to reassure them, and tell them that she loved them. "I'm sorry." It felt like I was screaming without making a sound. My voice hitched between sobs. "Jane, Sarah…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry...it was my fault."

The fire crackled and popped, and the screaming soon came to an end as it consumed my siblings one by one. My mother continued to cry out until her throat was raw, even as the flames seared her skin. The tears weren't caused by the affliction, but the loss. I knew that I couldn't take much more of this, the heat overwhelming me as my eyes continued to fall shut.

"Meg."

My eyes snapped open upon hearing the familiar voice. A celestial unicorn was in my dream and that couldn't be right. He gently touched his cool fingers to my forehead and the surroundings all washed away within that instant. There was a warm light where we were, but I was unable to focus on it. I felt weightless in his arms, as he carried me down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. We came to a halt in front of a door that opened without him having to touch it.

He carefully laid me onto the bed that was there. I couldn't stop to think that any other time and this sort of thing would have seemed ridiculous and romantically ideal.

I turned so that my back was faced towards him. I wasn't confident that I could keep myself together. Although I hadn't suffered any real physical injuries, I couldn't say the same for my mental stability. The saddest part about it was that I'd make that same deal again. I would fall for it. There would never be a lifetime where I wouldn't want to save them at the cost of my soul.

Castiel remained quiet, which made this whole concealing my emotions thing more difficult. I wanted to cry, but that wouldn't happen with him here. I couldn't break in front of him, although it was probably more than obvious to the angel. In any case, he gave me no indication on whether it was true or not.

"Thank you," I decided to put an end to the silence, as I sat up against the headboard. "You've saved me what, like twice now since I've been human?"

"That was your family." Of course he would go straight for the obvious. His eyes pinned me in place and it felt impossible to avoid telling him the truth.

"My mother and my two sisters, Jane and Sarah," I said, while averting my attention to my hands that had yet to stop shaking. "They died, so I made a deal. They came back when it was obvious that they couldn't have survived, but somehow they did. The town declared that it was witchcraft and had us burned." My eyes met his hurt expression and it was almost painful, being pitied by Castiel. The smile I gave him wavered, "When this life ends for me, I mean if I continue to be good, do you think your god would let me see them again?"

I waited to hear something along the lines of, '_God is merciful'_, but he didn't say a word. He just continued to look guilty. "Gee, Clarence. Just when I was in the mood for some garbled religious bullshit…"

He pressed a hand to his lower abdomen, "I don't know, Meg." I could see his fingers digging into the fabric, as if he were applying pressure to a wound. "I want to say yes, but lately with how Heaven has been…" I slowly moved from my spot on the bed and started walking closer to him. "…who knows?"

"Well, I was hoping you might, but I guess not." I was quick to reach for his shirt, when he backed himself further against the hard surface behind him. "What happened while you were gone? You haven't even apologized for being late." I tried for it again, having my wrist caught in the process with what took little to no effort on his part.

"I lost the Angel Tablet to Crowley, who by the way has a new weapon against angels." Within seconds, our positions were reversed so that my back was pressed to the door. He leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath reaching my skin. "The bullet Crowley shot me with was made from Angel Blade and I used it to kill one of my brothers. I barely managed to escape onto the road when Sam and Dean found me. Perhaps now isn't the time to question my lack of propriety."

Ironically, the only suitable response to that would have been an apology that he wouldn't want to hear anyway, especially now. So, I kept it to myself. It was just like Crowley to find an inventive way to kill angels without having to confront them with a blade. The thought of the tablet being in Crowley's hands wasn't so intimidating once you've considered the fact that he had no way of reading it.

"I'm so tired of not being able to do anything," I whispered in a hushed tone, keeping my eyes on his clear blue ones. The mood was so tense, so impossibly suffocating that words were hard to speak and thoughts were difficult to form or digest. Whenever Castiel failed in a specific mission, a person, or even himself his first natural instinct was to seek penance. But he wasn't able to this time and it had to be killing him, being unable to fix his mistakes.

My hands went to his waist and he didn't make a move to stop me this time, as I tugged his shirt free from his pants. He was brought forward a few steps in the process, hovering over me. I wanted to touch him. My fingers worked over the buttons of his shirt, slow in my actions going from the top of his collar down across his chest, then past his stomach until it was done. I wanted to see for myself. I felt his skin beneath the layers of clothing and slid them down over his arms, dropping them to the floor.

This went beyond what I may have thought I needed, craved for, or even deserved. It was an invisible string that kept me tied to him, like a magnetic pull that steadily reeled me in closer. There was always something terrifying about wanting him, and wanting this, because I could never truly understand what made the angel so enigmatic back then, or even now.

I could see the reddish purple bruise where the wound had closed and was still slowly healing. His breath hitched when my nails softly skimmed over the skin there, finding it difficult to stop. I leaned my head down and pressed a tender kiss against it, gauging his reaction with every light brush of my lips, before using my tongue. He flinched at the odd sensation, losing whatever bit of patience he had left. I felt his fingers close in my hair before he dragged me up to his mouth and kissed me hungrily, finally relenting in his restraint.

I leaned against him immediately and slid my hands over his sides to help steady myself. Only one of us needed air to breathe, it was something he seemed to forget, leaving me gasping between each pull of his lips. I felt his fingers run along the length of my back, inching my shirt up gradually with every touch until he removed it entirely.

He tilted my face up between his thumb and forefinger, as he leaned down for another kiss. My eyes fell shut against how soft and how perfectly attentive he was to every detail. I hummed a moan at the feeling of his tongue filling my mouth, tracing every corner and moving in languid strokes over mine. I was lost to him, losing what little control I thought I had over the situation. He grabbed the back of my legs and lifted me so that my arms and legs hugged around him securely, as he brought us over by the bed.

We remained connected by our mouths and limbs, as he pressed me into the mattress with the firm weight of his body, able to feel his skin against mine, warm and smooth. He grazed his short nails up across the length of my arm, fingering the straps of my bra until it fell loose over my shoulder, where his mouth soon followed in a hot trail across my chest. He used his lips and teeth to meticulously graze and mark my skin that seemed to make the angel feel proud.

I arched against his mouth, able to feel the heat from his mouth through the cup of my bra, as he soaked through the flimsy material with strong incessant flicks of his tongue. I moaned softly in response, feeling a dull ache starting to form in my lower stomach. He slid a hand to the clasp of my bra, undoing it with ease as he pulled it from my arms. My skin flushed under his dark blue gaze as he took in every inch of skin with scrutiny.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" My eyes were probably defying the confidence I had so brazenly spoken with. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "No." He looked at me seriously then and it gave me chills. "There's a lot more that I intend on doing to you."

Castiel's words were as good as a promise, as he demonstrated firsthand what he had in mind. I writhed beneath him, as he pressed his palms over my breasts, kneading them with coarse and needy touches, before closing his mouth down onto the raised skin. I muffled my moans into the back of my hand, feeling him sucking and flicking his tongue in circles over each breast, occasionally nipping and pinching the skin with his teeth.

It was the perfect line between sharp pain and pleasurable. He released my skin with a loud '_pop_' and continued to cascade open mouthed kisses in a tantalizingly slow and hot trail over my stomach. I held in a breath, my body tensing with anticipation of each brush of his lips. The kisses were unpredictable and warm, melting me through. He reached the top of my jeans. It was an obstruction to him that he instantly rid me of, along with my boyshorts.

The wonderful thing about being a demon was that I was able to be whoever I wanted. It was easy to be the beautiful girl with a perfect body. Honestly, I couldn't remember a time when I had felt more exposed and self-conscious than this moment.

He spread my thighs with his hands, using them as leverage to bring me closer to him. It took everything in me not to cry out against the feel of his hot breath ghosting over my damp skin. My leg twitched, as his tongue gave an experimental flick, the ache in my lower stomach intensified. When nothing happened after what felt like forever, I opened my eyes to catch him staring directly at me.

"Don't close your eyes," he said low and somehow huskier, changing when I had barely touched him. I tried my best to do as he asked although I had a feeling it wasn't a request. There was something hungry about the way he kept looking at me, dark and captivating. It unsettled me to be aroused at seeing him this way.

Thoughts were erased from my mind the moment he closed his mouth down hard against me. The breath was driven from my lungs leaving me gasping as he trailed the flat surface of his tongue from my opening to my clit, repeating this several times, tasting my arousal with every lap over my flesh. I felt his nails press into my skin, as he pinned my hips to the mattress, keeping me from squirming and shaking as my senses overloaded.

I licked my lips, watching as he moved a hand down between my thighs, sinking a finger in deep to his knuckle, before switching to the velvet thrusts of his tongue, freely tearing gasps and sighs of pleasure from me. I wound my hands into the sheets, tugging at them when he pushes in another finger, curling them in rhythm with his tongue that was rubbed and flicked over my clit in expert strokes, bringing me close to the edge of pure bliss.

The angel abruptly stopped in his ministrations to settle his body back between my thighs and started kissing my frustrations away. I moved my fingers up and down the curve of his back and reveled in how good he felt beneath my hands. He pressed himself against me in response, allowing me to feel his hardened length with every slight rock of his hips. I moaned into his mouth, consumed with every rough pull of his teeth and suckle of his lips.

He held me close by the front of my neck, brushing his thumb over my pulse in a possessive manner. "Castiel, _please_…" I whimpered, feeling the rough material of his slacks brush over my sensitive skin. Pretty soon it would be enough to finish me off. "Oh, God…"

"_God _is merciful." Well, there it was, except there was no room for comedy. Not with what he was currently doing to me. He teased his words over my mouth, as he murmured darkly, "_I'm_ not."

I believed him – unequivocally, with every part of my being. He stilled in his movements, watching as my hands worked at removing his pants, getting the belt open, the button undone, and the zipper down. I was quick and thorough, as I moved my hands beneath his briefs and lowered them over his thighs. He kicked them off the rest of the way, and assumed control. I could tell myself later that I permitted it, when I knew that it wasn't true.

He pressed the tip of his cock back and forth against me, rubbing slowly as he coated himself with my arousal. The friction was serving to kill me, moaning and lifting my hips for more. It was too much, even for him. I could see that he was suffering just as much as I was, as he dug his fingers into my hip to position himself at my entrance and slammed forward, filling me to the hilt. The rough action caused me to scream out in pleasured pain.

The pace was slow at first as he allowed me time to adjust around his thick length. I felt stretched beyond my limit and so incredibly full. He withdrew his hips all the way before driving into me harder and deeper, going as deeply as possible. The smacking of our skin meeting on impact, the gasps and heady sounds replaced the silence in the room.

He gasped audibly, as he continued to ride me further up the bed with every thrust. I slid my fingers through his hair and pulled him close for a kiss that he was more than willing to abide by. I hummed a moan as he parted my lips with his tongue and thrust it inside my mouth, as if to mimic the work of his hips.

The raw desire in his eyes when he pulled back to look at me was something new, something that couldn't be placed. Our mouths softly brushed, slowing as we continued stared at each other, when my mouth fell opened into a pleasured sigh. The rhythm changed – quicker, harder as his hands firmly grabbed my hips, forming bruises and pink welts across my pale skin.

I felt encouraged by his low guttural sounds when he began to forcefully pound into me. I gasped at the new fast pace and angle of his hips, being stroked in all the right places. He licked the back of his thumb before he brought it down between my thighs, rubbing me in rapid hard circles. I arched against him as he came forward, feeling each wave of pleasure growing and winding in the pit of my stomach, as I came in a stream of gasps and moans. I murmured his name like a prayer over and over again until it was no longer coherent.

It didn't take long for him to succumb to my body rippling and clenching around him like a pulse. He moaned low in the back of his throat at the pleasure, his jaw set visibly. I leaned my head up to tease my mouth over his neck, sucking the skin in sharply. He thrust hard and deep one last time before losing control and releasing into me. I could feel his harsh breaths hot against my shoulder, as he caught himself with his hands.

My heart raced beneath my chest, feeling contented and complete. But he didn't stop, as he slowly moved in a steady rhythm, causing me to moan softly in response to his tempting and skillful touches. My skin was tingling, feeling him roughly drag his hand up and down over my slick body, lightly scratching and pressing his nails into my skin. My mouth parted against his, finding myself sinking into the passionate kiss.

Angels didn't require sleep and he didn't seem to be running low on stamina.

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Heaven's Grief

**A/N:** Here is the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed it. Hopefully there will be more stories to enjoy in the future. Also, my apologies for how long it took to write this chapter, but considering the length, it was meant to be two chapters. It's pretty long. Anyways! Enjoy :)

* * *

**Heaven's Grief_  
_**

* * *

_If Heaven's grief brings Hell's rain,_  
_Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday _– "Just One Yesterday" by Fall Out Boy

Chapter Seven: _Heaven's Grief_

Morning came through the blinds with the soft heat of the sun warming my skin. It stirred me awake from some much needed sleep. Last night was dreamless and also the first time that I was able to truly get some rest. I moved my legs across the cool sheets, stretching and twisting my body, feeling somewhat satisfied by the subtle aches and pains. The bruises and marks that I knew to be there would serve as evidence.

I got up from the bed and closed the curtains. The light in the room was dimmed by an orange light. I didn't have a chance to scope out the place considering how quickly things had happened. The room was exceedingly nostalgic for me being a fan of the 1930's. That's when things got interesting; the discovery of Pluto, the very first cheeseburger, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and oh that little blemish on history called WWII.

My fingers brushed across the keys of the typewriter on the desk. Every corner of this room seemed to give off a lonely vibe. It was a ridiculous thought, but I considered myself to be more than a bit intuitive. That was all thanks to God for giving me those damned visions that made zero sense before dropping me back off on planet earth. Thankfully they haven't come up since. I should just be grateful that I didn't return as a prophet. That would imply that the boys failed in protecting theirs.

I found my way into the adjoined bathroom and froze upon seeing the marbled porcelain. The bathtub was spacious, like a hot tub and I was prepared to take full advantage of it. I turned on the water and adjusted it until it was lukewarm. My muscles sighed in relief as I slowly sank into the water, until I was completely submerged and soaked.

When I was finished, I changed into my clothing and tore off the tags. I decided that it was time to do some exploring.

I stepped out into the hallway and confirmed that it was indeed very extensive. I knew that roaming without Castiel wasn't a smart idea, which was precisely why I did it. Aside from wanting to help him, I also didn't want to be helpless. I could easily navigate through a gorgeous place such as this one. Despite my curiosity, I didn't open the doors I passed by, and followed the path right up to the stairs that only went down.

The closer I got to the first floor, the louder the sound became – voices muffled by distance. It was unmistakable, that obnoxiously loud and arrogant personality that could only have belonged to Dean Winchester. The other person had to be Sam, but he was speaking lower than usual, not that it was like him to raise his voice.

I decided to make my presence known, wanting to get this part over with as quickly as possible. It was rude to have stayed in their humble abode without so much as greeting them and letting them know that I was alive, even if I thought that they wouldn't truly care.

I cleared my throat, "Hi, boys."

They shot each other confused glances, before visibly tensing. It was Dean who started to steadily take a few cautious steps towards me. "Who are you and how exactly did you manage to find our bunker? No. Better question. How were you able to get in?"

Castiel hadn't told them anything. I was in a room with two lions, although Sam looked worse than the last time I saw him, which worried me despite the situation at hand.

"It's me. Meg." I slowly held my hands up, as Dean surveyed the area with the sly ease of a hunter's prowess, possibly looking for something to kill me with. "Please. Listen to me. Castiel brought me here."

"There was no coming back from where Meg went," said Sam, as he stood up from the table. I watched as he used a hand to stable himself. He was trying his best to cover the severity of his ailment from the trials, most likely for Dean's sake. "So, who are you really?"

"I'm telling you two chuckleheads the truth." I felt anxious, something that was foreign to me. I fought to suppress it, but it was winning. I feared for my life against the Winchesters, which would've been comical had I still been a demon, but the truth was that I had not felt any usual demon instincts since becoming human. I used to have to force them down when I was insistent on behaving myself, but now I didn't have violent inclinations, which would make fighting difficult.

Dean remained adamant as he looked hard at me with his cold green eyes. "Sorry, but the truth means jack after awhile." Even if he believed me, he would still want to kill me, as he had promised to do so on multiple occasions.

I lowered my arms at my sides, "I can't fight you."

"Right, sure you can, sport." Just as he lunged towards me, I was quickly grabbed and hidden behind a tan overcoat. Castiel's hand at my back kept me securely pressed against him, as he shielded me from a punch that could have taken my head off.

Dean practically seethed as he glared heatedly at the angel, "What the hell, Cas?"

"She is telling the truth, Dean." I rested my head between Castiel's shoulders in an attempt to relieve the headache that was coming on. My heart was pounding hard. That was close. "Meg was resurrected by God and she is now human."

Dean muttered a curse low under his breath before he ground out through clenched teeth. "You have got to be kidding me. You want us to believe that God not only had some screwed up reason to bring Meg back, but he also turned her into a freakin' human?"

I heard Sam pull his chair back out to take a seat, as he attempted to make sense of everything. "Well, think about it, Dean. When you were brought back from Hell, you told me that your scars were gone. We were both in our bodies when we returned. It was like being brand new. This is _Meg,_ Meg. No vessel."

"And just what the hell were you two doing between last night and now?" No longer feeling as though my life were in danger, I stepped from behind Castiel to face the full brunt of Dean's glare-off with him. "How come you never bothered to mention Meg? You had a good opportunity earlier while you were apologizing. I guess the list keeps growing, huh, Cas?"

"If you must know, we were engaged in sexual congress." The blunt response had me doing a double-take, wishing that I had been wrong each time I heard it, although I should have seen it coming. The shared looks between the two brothers were enough to leave me fearful again as it dawned on them where those activities took place. Sam held his breath as he turned away and kept his eyes on his research.

Dean looked like he was about to murder someone.

"Hiding from angels for the most part, I guess that's kind of like foreplay." I tried my best to reduce the tension in the room as I gestured around, "This is a lovely...what would you call this?"

"Now let's get something straight here. NO one is performing any acts of sexual whatever of any kind within the sanctity of this bunker, or so help me…" Castiel and I both nodded in agreement as Dean slowly joined in unison. "Good. I'm gonna go see about setting up that movie projector for our little horror flick. Oh, and Meg…"

I looked at him expectantly. "Club members only. So, why don't you uh, make yourself useful? Get us some popcorn and make nice with the broom closet. The place can use a good dusting."

"Hold on a minute." Sam didn't even bother to help me out, didn't even say a word and he was the more sympathetic one. "I know that I haven't always been a team player, but at the end of the day, I still died for everyone in this room."

"And now you're the Alice to our Brady Bunch." Dean's words were cut and dry and so long as I wanted to stay, I'd have to listen to him. Getting along with Castiel's favorite person would be difficult, but maybe one day I'd be able to see him as more than just a pompous prick.

Sam walked up to us with a reluctant smile that was there and gone in a flash. "Meg, I never had the chance to thank you." That's why I was always Team Sam. There was sincerity in his words. He was so personable and warm. No matter what happened to him, there was still emotion that was reflected in his eyes, whereas Dean's were empty and offered nothing.

"It's okay, Sam. Thank you." I tried to give him a reassuring smirk but it broke into something else entirely, something creepy. He cast a look between me and Castiel and quirked his eyebrows a little. My conversation prior to this one with Sam had been about unicorns. And after what the angel announced, it wasn't a secret to anyone that I had finally caught mine.

* * *

After bringing the boys their stovetop popcorn and receiving thorough instructions not to enter any closed doors, I underwent my adventures of cleaning the place. I thought I would hate it, but it reminded me of home. There were many chores and responsibilities that I was used to doing in my time, but this was just absurd.

I belonged out on the field, not scrubbing toilets or wiping down dusty furniture.

They had forgotten that I was quite the badass once upon a time. I started jabbing the air with the broom as though it were a sword. A clash resounded in my head, as I remembered when my blade met Crowley's. I stopped upon recalling the bitter memory. I hadn't even realized that I was haunted by it. I picked up the mop instead. It was part of the arsenal, a different choice of weapon. I twirled it haphazardly counter-clockwise beneath my hands like a poleax.

That was so much better.

I could easily take out a few monsters. Sure, my balance was off but I wasn't completely useless. I'd say my strength matched Sam's right about now, considering his current state. I suppose that I wouldn't be involved in those final plans anyways, when I'd love nothing more than to watch the Winchesters close the gates to Hell.

I was about to resume my fight with my shadow, when I picked up on the sound of steps coming from behind me. "I think this is the first time you haven't startled me." I turned to see Castiel standing there, being quiet and looking oddly morose, even for him. Something happened. "Aren't you a fully fledged member of the Boy Scouts? Why aren't you with them?"

He gave me a troubled look, "I was not permitted to go."

"Dean knows how to hold a grudge." I would know, but in Castiel's case, it was significantly more hurtful. "You can't apologize any more than you already have either, so I see there being only one other option." I set down the mop and walked towards him.

He inquired, "Tell me."

"Maybe you can go out and get him something." He narrowed his eyes in confusion, when I continued. "Go out to a store and get some of his favorite things."

"I don't know, Meg. That sounds…"

"Like a bribe?" I shook my head at him, unable to keep the smile off my face. Maybe Castiel hasn't learned all that much about humans. "Why can't it just be about doing something conveniently nice for a friend who just so happens to be mad at you?"

He sighed heavily, "You're right."

I grabbed onto the sleeve of his overcoat and pulled him towards me. I wanted him near and I didn't want to let go for some reason. I was a little selfish, greedy, and nothing else seemed to matter. But there was a feeling that I couldn't quite shake and it sent a chill down my spine. His hand came up to the back of my neck as he gently held me in return.

I shivered as he pressed his mouth against my ear, "When you asked me if I thought God would allow you to see your family again, it was not my intention to discourage you." I stared up into his eyes, captivated by them. "I want you to have faith."

It was difficult not to anymore. The sound of wings echoed in the narrow hallway and it left me feeling empty and mostly terrified. The sinking feeling in my chest was getting worse but I did my best to shove it aside, and continued my work. Thankfully, the house was empty for the remainder of the day. I put the supplies back in the closet and made my way to the kitchen. I hadn't eaten anything and now was a good time to do so.

Beer and a grocery bag were left abandoned on the counter. They weren't there before and when I saw the contents of the bag, I realized that it was a goody bag made especially for Dean. At some point Castiel came back, a thought that unsettled me. Perhaps the boys were in a fix and needed his help, but even that caused copious amounts of worrying.

Nothing I could do, nothing to be done…

I've let myself get carried away with being human.

* * *

The next morning the house was quiet. I remembered hearing Sam and Dean get in last night, but Castiel was still gone. That bad feeling made itself known as I crawled out of bed and went into the study. I gathered the papers on the table and tried to organize some of the chaos. Cleaning was becoming more of a pleasant distraction as I tried to keep my nerves calmed.

I noticed that the fridge was full, as were the shelves, and the pantry. To put an end to my stomach's grumbling, I took out a skillet and grabbed for breakfast essentials: bacon, eggs, toast, butter, potatoes, and onions.

If I was going to be the one cleaning, I deserved to have nice big meal. The bacon sizzled and the potatoes were chopped and thrown in with the onions in a separate pan. I had seen humans cook plenty of times and understood how it was done. Now I had a reason to make food and it was calming, just like cleaning.

I wondered if there was something Castiel would enjoy eating. Maybe it was more or less his lacking the craving for food. He did seem to enjoy a handful of popcorn yesterday before Dean practically shoved me out of the room. I was in the middle of seasoning the potatoes when an unfamiliar voice startled me, "I can't sleep when the smell of bacon is thick in the air."

I saw what appeared to be Kevin Tran standing in the middle of the kitchen. What he lacked from being spastic, he gained from the exhaustion that was clearly etched in his face. The dark shadows beneath his eyes confirmed it, along with the way he was having a difficult time standing still. What the hell happened to him? "There's going to be plenty, so feel free to join, little prophet."

"It's ex-prophet now, even though it's a little bit hard to believe until this is over." He took a seat on one of the stools at the small table and watched with a half-lidded expression as I went back to cooking. "Anyway, I know that you're Meg. Sam and Dean filled me in."

"At least one of us is well informed," I said quietly, while I brought down the plates and grabbed the silverware. Being short was a damned problem, one that Kevin could probably understand. I evened the portions and took a seat in a chair across from him. He didn't mind his manners, as he shoveled forkfuls into his mouth without so much as chewing.

He grew still for a moment and looked at me. "I'm sorry that Crowley killed you."

I agreed quietly, taken aback by his apology, "Me too."

"Tonight should be the end of it. It's the third trial." Oh, well then. Maybe I should prepare the goddamn victory cake.

"So, what's the game plan?" I didn't expect him to tell me. The Winchesters probably already had it covered by telling him not to, when he started to smile.

"The third trial is to cure a demon. Their first choice didn't go so smooth, but they should be nabbing Crowley right about now."

My eyes were as wide as saucers at the idea. The thought that Crowley would finally get what he deserved. How ingenious that would be, closing the gates of Hell with that smarmy bastard as the final trial. I tried to conceal the delight in my voice, "Cure a demon into what?"

"Human."

"Aha…ha…" I started to laugh, bringing a hand to my mouth trying to stifle it. Crowley as a human being! That was rich, truly. All of the things that he had done and that he would have to endure as a mortal. That throne of his forfeited, that sense of entitlement stripped right from his conscience, and let's not forget that he would be easier to kill.

Kevin was raising a piece of toast to his mouth, when Castiel suddenly appeared with Dean standing beside him. The boy didn't seem fazed by it as he continued to eat. I kept my eyes on the table, relieved that Castiel was alive. Rationally I should be listening to his reasons for disappearing, but that would imply that I cared to even do that much.

"Nice to see that you've gotten comfy," Dean's voice practically dripped with sarcasm. He then looked at Kevin. "Can we uh, see you for a moment?" Stealing a piece of bacon from Kevin's plate, the hunter and the prophet left us alone.

"Dean has asked that I bring you to Sam." So, I would be involved? I stood up from my chair and started clearing the mess. "He doesn't want to leave Sam alone in his weakened state. I agree that it would not be wise."

"Put my life on the line again." I leaned my back against the counter and crossed my arms defensively. "I didn't even know what the plan was until Kevin told me. _Kevin."_

"There isn't much of a choice." He was in warrior mode and arguing, even talking was somewhat of a chore when his patience wore thin. Maybe this was part of the bad feeling I had and if that was the case then I would rather be there should things go wrong.

"Protect Sam again? Fine…" I felt the light touch of his fingers at my wrist, holding me in his grasp as the floor gave out and I was weightless. It was an odd sensation that only lasted for a couple of seconds, but I could never truly get used to it.

We were outside an old abandoned church. The Impala was parked only a few steps away from where we were standing. He drew his hand up over my arm and gently turned me so that I was facing him. "Be careful."

Within the deep rough tone and those simple, delicate words, somehow it felt like goodbye. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't. One thing at a time, let's just make sure Sam completes the last trial."

"If I do this, I will be able to fix Heaven." How would he manage to do that? Why would they even listen to him when they wanted nothing more than to rip his wings off? "Closing the gates of Heaven, they will be forced to listen."

"Everything in me is saying 'no'. That you're wrong and that you shouldn't do this – " He kissed me abruptly. The warmth from his mouth compelled mine to move beneath his, slowly and softly. It was all too soon that he pulled away to look at me. There was nothing that I could do. He wouldn't listen to me. I already knew that he wouldn't.

"Go then." I shrugged him off and headed for the church. I could feel his dark eyes burning holes through my skin. "Fix Heaven, Castiel."

"You're upset," he said ruefully.

"Funny how that happens to me now…" I spared him one last glance before strolling in to greet my two favorite people. I could turn back, I could beg him, I could hope that he would listen to me, but that would never happen. "I sure do hope I didn't miss anything." I watched as Sam jerked the demon's head to the side and injected him. The sound of pain and frustration was satisfying coming from its source.

The collar around Crowley's neck made it difficult for him to see as far as he'd like to, but he was still able to roam his eyes over me and he chuckled low in his throat, as he realized who I was, "I guess it's true what they say. You can't keep a good whore down."

"Hello, Crowley." I went to stand in front of him, walking past the devil's trap without a problem. I took in the various chains and shackles. "And I thought Sam was in bad shape."

"What is it with the tough cookie act? It gets boring after awhile. You can ask Moose here. He's been at it all day." His eyes followed Sam in a predatory manner. Crowley was trying to get a rise out of him, something that had obviously been failing since the moment they started. "Are you still sore about that love bite I gave you? We'll give it a kiss and make it all better."

"Sam's caught himself the King of Hell. I'd say he's pretty damn tough right about now." My feet danced in and out of the red spray painted circle, taunting Crowley.

"You little whore." He quietly seethed right before he began shouting, like the firecracker he was known to be and went off. "I stabbed you through your bleedin' stomach! The next time I kill you learn the new trick and stay dead."

"You should be more concerned about yourself, Crowley. Who is going to stop me from killing you once you're all fleshy and mortal?" He grew silent then, because he knew that it would be no one. He had only accumulated enemies since he's been king and even before that.

Sam was busying himself with the next dose. His nose was red and his eyes were watering. The chills that tore through him were amplified by the brief chattering of his teeth as his body tried to fight against the fever. I spoke quietly to him, "So, what's up with the science project?"

"Well, I need to give him an injection of my blood eight times, once every hour." I nodded, having seen the marks on Crowley's neck.

I breathed out through a sigh, "Joy."

"Are you okay? I mean that you look upset about something." The guy on the brink of death was asking me if I was all right.

"So I've heard." I could tell Sam that I had a bad feeling, but frankly he didn't need that right now. I could involve him in my love life, but why bother with that when it was coming to an end. I had always thought that Castiel was more human than angel. But today I was proved wrong. The sins he committed nearly destroyed Heaven and in the process, he betrayed and hurt those who thought of him as family.

And he would keep doing it, so long as he was convinced that he was doing what was right.

I took a seat on the rickety pew in the corner, keeping my eyes on Crowley's when Sam approached him with the syringe and pushed down. Another hour rolled around and the process was repeated exact, and then another, making it the fifth injection. The cackled, throaty laughter and the threats, the joking – all of it was starting to come off as desperate and it may have been the slightest of changes, but it was effective nonetheless.

It was getting dark and the few candles Sam had lit weren't going to last us for much longer. And the lanterns weren't doing much to brighten up the room, even if we did set up at least one in each corner. He caught me in the middle of worrying. As if reading my mind, he offered, "There should be more candles out in the car."

Crowley called after me, "Afraid of the dark? The phrase brave new girl only applies to big girls, but you're not a big girl, are you love?" I slammed the doors behind me and pressed my back against it, taking in deep breaths as I felt my resolve wane. I could still hear his laughter and it chilled me to the bone, because truthfully I was scared for many reasons.

Soon it would all be over.

The trunk was left unlocked, which came as a surprise to me. Dean was so obsessed with his precious Impala one would think it would be completely locked down. The bag of candles was partially opened, some of them were used. I grabbed a handful and closed it back up, ready to go back inside, when the ground started shaking.

A demon…

"Sam…" The sound of glass shattering filled the spaces of silence. My breath felt trapped in my lungs, as I watched on in horror as Sam's body crashed violently through one of the chapel windows and landed onto the hard ground with a sickening thud. My legs were heavy with shock and it felt like they couldn't carry me to him fast enough. "Sam!"

I slid my arms beneath his and sat him up so that his back was resting against my knees. He hissed in discomfort as he regained consciousness. "Come on," I said, as I helped him up to his feet. We had to move quickly, especially if the plan was to run. He staggered towards the church and steadied himself with both hands to the wall.

"Stay here. I have a plan." He was nuts! I shook my head, about to spew off a list of denials, when he looked at me seriously. "It's going to work, just give me two minutes." I gave a short nod, despite being unsure. I didn't doubt that Sam knew what he was doing. He was smart and capable, but I had just watched him get propelled out a window. How he was still able to stand was beyond me.

He disappeared inside the church and it felt like an eternity of pause, when I heard a scream that struck me like a train. It belonged to a woman, the demon. Sam's plan had worked – whatever it was. Just as I turned to see for myself, it was like a wave crashed down on our surroundings. The floor had a soft opaque tint to it and somehow I didn't feel as though I belonged here anymore.

The wind was visible in the air, cutting into my skin like broken gems that sparkled if you looked at it from the right angle. I couldn't hear anything in the stillness. Even the storm looming above us was tamed and caught in time's spell. The clouds moved and churned formlessly about the sky delicately like white lace. And I was able to see things for what they truly were.

It should have frightened me, but it didn't.

When I finally saw Sam, all I could do was marvel over how radiant and serene he was then with a magnificent set of feathered wings that he deserved and a golden halo adorned atop his head. The glow that outlined his body illuminated every shadow in the room and gave it light. But it also brought on the sad realization that Sam was approaching death.

"Meg! You can come in now." I was standing in the room in plain sight. Sam gave a look of confusion, as he walked outside to search for me. Not even Crowley seemed to pick up on my presence.

_Megan… _

Turning towards the voice, I ran out of the church and onto the road. The gravel beneath each step was silent, but I could feel them. If this was death and my time was up, then I had to see him one last time. The way things ended, knowing that he would be in danger, everything that told me not to leave him swelled throughout my being, like a pulse that gripped me and released me into a panic.

To reach him, to be with him…

My legs gave out from the momentum as I caught myself on my palms, feeling the skin scrape across the pavement. I pulled myself up to my feet and continued at the same frantic pace, even as I teetered off balance. I couldn't afford to go any slower as I clung onto this hope, this faith that I would make it before reality slammed shut on me.

It was impossible to escape from that dark interchangeable color blue, the ticking of a clock, the strange old familiar feeling…

**Castiel**.

Lightning pierced the sky and touched the earth, before it vanished into a mist that faded in the breeze. I ventured through the wooded area and slowed down when I neared the particles that remained until they flitted away by the touch of my fingers. There on the ground. Castiel was seemingly lifeless with his eyes shut and without the glow that should have engulfed him just like Sam, but there was none.

No halo or wings, just a heartbeat that was racing hard within his ribcage.

"Megan." I shook my head in response, not wanting to acknowledge anything else as I sat down beside him. An invisible chill wracked through me, as tears I didn't know were there traveled in lines past my cheeks and collected at the tip of my chin. The droplet fell onto his skin as I leaned over him.

For what reasons would this happen…

My chest felt heavy and constricted as it throbbed painfully. He was stripped of his grace as he was human in front of my eyes. It was his last vain attempt to rid Heaven of the mistakes he caused and he failed again. I should have made him stay, somehow. His hand twitched in the grass as he came to, and gradually stood to his feet.

I followed him through the woods until we came to a clearing and we were stilled by what we saw in the sky. Falling down like meteors, breaking through the atmosphere, the angels were touching down to earth, as they were expelled from Heaven. My hand went to grab for his, when I felt my fingers close around air. I tore my eyes away from the fire that bled down like shooting stars and found that I was able to see through my skin.

I was nearly transparent and pretty soon, not even he existed to me.

My mother grabbed hold of my shoulders, pressing her nails into my skin. "Megan, wake up!" She firmly shook me, her brown eyes widened in desperation. After a while I couldn't hear her anymore. The silence must've drowned her out as well.

* * *

I flinched, feeling a warm liquid running down my arm.

This wasn't Kansas.

Not even close.

I tugged at the rope that bound my hands above my head. The blood that was now flowing freely from a fresh cut in my wrist made it easier to slip my fingers through as I eventually freed myself. I landed onto the muddy ground less graceful than I would have liked and quickly got up. The last thing I remembered from purgatory was that I was running away from a Djinn.

Unsuccessfully, I'd take it. "Are you in the mood for critiques? Welp, it doesn't matter. I'm going to submit mine anyway." I dodged what would have been a tackle and watched as the Djinn collided with the ground, face first onto a rock. Too much time spent in this Hell and eventually she became primal and was willing to feed on anyone.

Pathetic, really.

"First of all, I would never agree to cook or clean for the Winchesters. Making me bring them their popcorn was drawing the line…" I wound my fingers in her hair and yanked her head back. She struggled beneath my strength, but it was no use once I put everything I had into it. I felt her hair rip at the roots as I dragged her over by the makeshift bag that the bitch stole from me.

"Secondly, I would imagine Castiel to be good in bed, as he is always so curious and willing to learn. I've seen how my boy works under pressure. It's quite the show, even better than sex." I slammed her face into the mud, hearing her gasp harshly for air with every inhale of her lungs. "I'm hot just thinking about it. But he was too rough, too dark, too perfect, and too much of what I wanted and that was a flaw."

I retrieved one of the sharpened sticks from the bag, "You know, I feel like I can talk to you girl to girl. So, I'll be honest with you about my plans for when I get out of here and I will get out. I'm going to find him and I think I'll live a similar life like the one you showed me, except I'll probably be the one topping him, until he's learned to take what he wants." She squirmed in my hold as she kicked her legs violently. "Oh, don't worry, I'll try my best to be a good girl, I promise." I held my hand up as if to swear on it, growing tired of her ragged breathing. "If you're not going to add any input to this, then just die."

I stabbed the stick through her neck and watched as she reached up to try pull it out. "Yeah, I'm sorry we're fresh out of silver and lamb's blood. Maybe I should just rip you apart piece by piece? That would make me feel a little bit better after having to watch my family get burned to death again, to take Dean's bullshit, to see Sam on the brink of death, and Castiel expelled from Heaven. "

She ripped the stick from her throat. Her laughter was gurgled as she choked up blood into a thick puddle on the ground.

"What's so funny?" I kicked her hard in the stomach when she didn't answer. The force from the blow had her on her back. "Speak up, three wishes."

"A-All of i-it was true, w-whether you were t-there or not." She smiled a bloody, disgusting smile. Perhaps not enough of her teeth were broken. I stared at her in revulsion, as I bought her to me by the collar of her shirt, reeled back my arm, and punched her unconscious.

I wasn't about to believe that bullshit.

I heard a twig snap under a footstep, a rustle in the bushes, all of those horribly cliché events that occurred with someone's coming. "Let's be friends, said the demon to the…"

"Vampire," came an actual friend, as Benny stepped out from the forest. "I told you to run from the Djinn, not get captured by it." I rolled my eyes at him as he walked over to inspect the body, drawling with his rich southern accent, "You sure did a number on her."

"Believe me when I say that she deserved a whole lot more." He tore a piece of cloth off his shirt and handed it to me. I had forgotten all about my wound as I wrapped the soft material around my wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding. I held it firmly, applying pressure, "We need to get out, fast."

"We only need a few more things." He easily sliced through the Djinn's arm and tossed it into the bag. It was another ingredient for our escape. "I don't like taking the long way, but there really is no other exit."

"Why didn't you go with Sam and Bobby again?" Given the chance now, I'm sure he would happily jump inside Sam's arm.

He paused for a moment, his blue eyes looking above for the answers. "I thought being here was what I deserved, since I wasn't wanted anywhere else, but I was wrong in the end." He continued moving, our steps picking up pace. We could both sense that something strong was coming. He handed me my purgatory weapon, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." That was how we spent our existence, covered in blood and sweat. It was the grime from the mud, the taste of water from the river, and the cold repetitive kill that became my constant. I wouldn't stop until my goals were met. Get out of purgatory, respectively pay Crowley back for sending me here, and find what would make the remainder of my life worth living.

I already had an idea.

He was tall and awkward and the color of his eyes were a dreamlike shade of blue. His voice was deep and rough, although the words that left his mouth were usually a string of methodical responses. He tried to kill me once and I saved him. It didn't make sense, but I preferred it that way. He was good and I was bad, but in the end it was reversed. He wears a suit and tie everyday and that was good enough for me.

Then there were these two boys. I would say something nice about them individually but nothing came to mind. It didn't sound like much of an idea, but put together, these were solid reasons to keep on fighting. These three reasons were worth living and dying for apparently.

Faith was that I would see them again soon.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
